Daffodils
This time of year, I’m obsessed with them. Maybe it goes back to my Midwestern roots. I spent most of my life in southern Indiana where winters are cold, drizzly, and gray. During winter, the glorious decidous trees of autumn are bare and stark, the luxurious green lawns of summer are brown and muddy and cabin fever rages. It was the worst time of year for those of us in the teaching profession. The period between winter break and spring break seemed to go on forever. Indoor recess had lost it’s charm, students were restless, and teachers were weary.
The Little House in the Woods
When my husband and I moved our family to a house in the woods, the kids and I planted daffodil bulbs on the hillside behind the house. Each dormant bulb held the promise that spring would come. We couldn’t wait to see the first green shoots springing up form under the leaf mulch in the woods. When the hillside burst into bloom, we knew winter days would soon be gone. Each year, I would gather a large boquet and bring it inside.
Josie’s Favorite
Daffodils were my grandmother’s favorite flower. She called them jonquils. I like to call them that too, though purists say ” While regionally jonquils may be called daffodils, this is botanically inaccurate. They are both in the Narcissus family, however there are slight differences. “
So what’s in a name? My grandmother’s name was Josephine Marie. She prefered to go by Marie, but allowed Gandpa to call her Josie . “..a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”
(Those of you who are really paying attention will note that Grandma is standing in front of tulips,not daffodils or jonquils or roses… but you get the idea.)
Daffodils in the Desert
Now I live in the Southwest. There is an abundance of wildflowers blooming in the desert this spring, but sadly, no daffodils grow here. I went to Trader Joe’s to get some. I didn’t find them with the fresh flowers and was about give up when I spotted some bunches of spindly little stems in pre-bloom stage bound together with a rubber band and stacked in a wooden box. With no water. Orphans. I had to bring them home. As per the directions on the tag, I snipped off a half and inch from each stem and put them into some water.
I wasn’t expecting much, but by the next morning…
….my kitchen counter was glowing with yellow blooms! I know they are short-lived, but for now I am enjoying the burst of spring, the reminders of Grandma, my Indiana home, and the end of winter.
But I think it’s deeper than that. Perhaps , for me, these bright yellow blooms bursting from dormant bulbs and spindly stalks give me hope and courage. Their blooms are fleeting. Their message lingers.
Have a joyous spring my friends!
Threads of Thought
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